


you've got a grip like a vice and you won't let go

by huckleberrysaywhen



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, but also keeping it pretty widespread so whatever, im heavily basing this off comic universe, theyre kinda gay, this is my first fkn work for this but ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-01 07:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16760551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huckleberrysaywhen/pseuds/huckleberrysaywhen
Summary: Deadpool is lingering in the soft side of town where an old friend, Spiderman, still resides. He pays an initial visit to catch up on things, but it goes south when the two begin to talk about personal life and "work" life. The duo get somehow entangled in a hot mess of criminals that shouldn't be their job, and crash endless nights together at Peter's apartment while struggling through this web they call life. Whether it is recklessness or carelessness, their extended time together leads to something curious.Updates weekly.





	1. initially, i thought i missed you

**Author's Note:**

> hi so this is my first time posting something for a fANDOM and im very excited because ive been working on this for a while, just for leisure!!!! im trying to keep it widespread so you can base it off of films/comics/anything you want, as well, so excuse me if some things are kind of vague. i mainly just wanted an excuse to write a bit of a slow burn smut story between my two favourite boys. re-reading some of their ace comics together gave me some inspiration.  
> also, i posted one other work here from my tumblr about my oc's, 'pick your poison.' feel free to see that, too, and my tumblr has a couple other things, @huckleberrysaywhen  
> thanks so much, and i hope you enjoy this first chapter!

A mottled red and black suit head slowly peeked up over the corner of a stack of storage boxes. Belonging ungracefully to a very wounded, and very excited Deadpool.  
Now, typically, this sorry excuse for a man was prowling around the streets of miscellaneous cities that he could make fat stacks off of. This particular evening, he’d just completed a job on the sour side of town, and was repaying a visit to an old friend.  
Staying low and crouched, he crept around the boxes and toward the silhouette of a narrow-framed, small bodied teenager. A lithe, lean boy that was sitting with his legs over the edge of the rooftop, staring downward at what he could consider his kingdom.  
Now, the underwhelming mercenary was acutely aware of the fact that the boy could very possibly be one hundred percent sure that he was sneaking up on him. He was just giving himself the benefit of the doubt.  
Drawing one of his guns from his off-hand holster, the excuse of a man stared at the way the boy’s brunette hair draped across his jaw and nape, fluttering slightly in the wind. Gee, he wondered briefly, how much of a cliche could this be?  
Setting the barrel of the gun on the boy’s back, he gave him a curt nudge, just enough to jostle him. “All right, boy, hands up!” He cried, triumphant to watch him jolt and grip the rooftop with his fingers tightly.  
“W-Wade!” Came the squeal from little Peter, his neck craning and spine twisting gracefully to look over his shoulder at his playful attacker. Poor Wade thought his entire chest was going to compress into itself and crush his heart with the way that boy looked at him.  
Long eyelashes brushing his high cheekbones, that were rosy from the warm sunlight dappling the boy golden. It wasn’t often Wade was gifted with the removal of Peter’s mask, but boy, did he bask in it.  
His gun was holstered with a pleasant click into place. “Yes, snufkin? Calling my name already, at ten in the morning, I see.” He snickered, shifting closer and plopping his happy ass beside Peter, legs swinging off the edge of the rooftop.  
It took the teenager a moment, but when he caught wind of Wade’s blood-soaked suit and bullet holes mottling his chest and stomach, he just about started crying. Wade found this very amusing, and moreso when Peter got furthur upset for being made fun of.  
“Oh, c’mon, kid, you know I can’t die from it. Maybe it hurts, just a little, but your old boy’s fine.” Nonchalant as ever, while hiding the grimace behind his mask.  
“Oh, geez, Wade, it looks like you got real beat up… I know you must be in pain, and… and I worry, you know? About those wounds, oh gosh, they look bad.” Came the soft-spoken response from the boy parallel, his searching gaze burning into every individual bullet hole.  
Wade waved his left hand at Peter a little, trying to shoo him like a fly. “Don’t start, snufkin. I came to visit you, so, how ‘bout we get into some dry clothes and take a walk to that food truck you like? Catch up on some things.” Toward the end of his sentence, he flicked Peter’s nose with a gloved index finger.  
Peter wrinkled his freckled nose in response. Two big, doe eyes raised to halfheartedly meet his gaze. His eyes were watery, framed by veils of eyelashes, and a curtain of silk brunette hair fell across his swart irises. He had to reach up and gently brush it behind his right ear.  
Soft-spoken, he responded. “Okay… But I’m suspicious. We can stop by my apartment, or something.”  
Wade seemed very pleased with this, hiding his devilish grin behind his mask. “All right, snufkin, let’s go.”


	2. spiderman pretending to be spiderman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so formatting was a bit weird last chapter but i was too lazy to fix it, my bad. i just copypasted from google docs so forgive me, this chapter shouldn't be all wonky like the first.

After a long journey of trotting through alleyways with uncomfortable closeness and stretches of weaving narrow back streets that Peter knew like the back of his gloved hand, the duo had arrived at the door of his lovely apartment. Cheap, but well-kept. Something affordable, but in not the most brilliant part of town.

Dogs lazed in the warm morning sunlight, mangy and unkempt. Children giggled and played in a community yard, near their mothers and fathers that sat chattering on lawn chairs, sharing lunch or a bottle of water.

The air buzzed with the sounds of a city that the two men were very used to. They learned to tune it out, like most city dwellers, hearing nothing but their own thoughts.

It took a moment for the boys to unlock the door and usher themselves inside without being seen, because, oh boy, Peter didn’t want children knocking on his door every day, all hours of the day because they saw Spiderman walk past his door. 

Ushered inside, Wade glanced around briefly. The apartment was warm from sunlight bearing down on the furniture and carpet, from two windows that had their curtains undone. There was a small sofa facing a decent-size TV in the sitting room, that was directly connected to a ‘dining room’, just a small section that had a stout oak dining table, small and round. It had two matching wooden chairs on either end of it, and last night’s dinner sitting in front of one chair.

The kitchen was through a small archway, tucked away and a bit cluttered, but overall clean for being taken care of by a teenager. There was a small hall just past it, that led to a large window at the end of it, and two doors. One on the left, the either on the right. The left was a small washroom, and the right was a bedroom. Wade unfortunately didn’t get a chance to peek into the latter. 

Peter sheepishly walked down the hall, pulling his mask off with his left hand. “Well, um… Feel free to get changed in the washroom, I uh… I’m gonna go in my bedroom and… yeah. Just give me a minute. Y-you could leave your stuff here and pick it up later, too, if you want. So you don’t have to carry it around.”

“All right, snufkin.” Wade winked, and realized with total idiocy that Peter had already vanished inside his bedroom. Smooth, you big moron.

He meandered down the hallway, sniffing around the bathroom a little for anything he could possibly make fun of for Peter owning, but it actually was pretty normal for a teenage boy.

Wade made quick work of wrestling himself out of his suit, swearing and spitting threats and promises to it, as well as abusing his weapons in the process. Carelessly tossing them on the ground and snarling something along the lines of racist and demeaning. He didn’t seem to care that it was just an inanimate object. 

He had switched into a spare set of clothing he typically kept on his person for stupid times like this; a solid black crew neck, and worn-out denim jeans with a few paint stains on them. His socks were mismatched, one white and one black, and he donned a pair of white sneakers.

He looked a little bit like a dad in his late forties. 

Wade slowly opened the washroom door and peeked through the crack, his slitted blue eyes searching for his better half. Or what he wished would be his better half. Shh, it’s a secret!

That blue gaze settled on Peter, who was opening his bedroom door. He had switched into a pair of black jeans and some beat-up old gym sneakers, but what really caught Wade’s attention was his pull over hoodie.

It was scarlet red with a little Spiderman logo on the left breast. Wade could literally not resist ruining the moment of gazing at his date, because he burst out of the washroom and grabbed Peter’s shoulder with an excessive amount of force.

“Are you-- Peter, kid, are you, Spiderman, wearing a sweatshirt, that has Spiderman on it? Are you like-- Are you like a Netflix ad on a Netflix show? Are you promoting yourself? Or are you just succumbing to retail’s attempt of making money? Because wow, they must be doing something right, if they got Spiderman himself to buy merch of himself, because all he has to do is wear his suit and it’s like ten times better--”

Peter was grinning from ear to ear. His pouty pink lips were stretched thin, peeling back to show two rows of amazingly white teeth, somewhat straight, too. His eyes, hazel in short form, were glittering with amusement at Wade’s response. 

Wade was cut off when their gazes met. He’d never really admired Peter’s eyes as much as he wished he could. They were based a light brown, ringed with darker at the edges, fading into gray near his pupil. Flecked with amber gold and emerald green, and finally draped with a veil of silver dapples, he was most definitely the king of gorgeous eyes. What a shame they were only honey brown in the sunlight.

Wade didn’t realize his jaw was gaping open from stopping mid-sentence, and promptly shut it when his brain returned to it’s rightful place in his skull rather than in his chest. 

Peter giggled quietly, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. His curtain of hair fell forward over his eyes once more. “Yes, Wade, I am wearing merchandise of myself.”

And that was that. Peter turned away and left a starstruck Wade by himself in the hallway, walking to the front door, fetching his keys on the way.

Wade was still dumbfounded, watching the way his hair bobbed lightly with each light, bouncy step he took, full of energy. The way his shoulders and upper body moved, muscle rippling underneath, but shadowed by the baggy and oversized pull over hoodie he was wearing. The way the sleeves settled over his wrists and his long, slender fingers barely poked out past the scrunchy wrist guards. 

Peter glanced over his shoulder, muttering real soft, his pink lips barely moving. “Are you coming?” He seemed beautifully oblivious to the way Wade was looking at him.

Shaking his head, he walked after Peter. “Yeah, yeah, I’m still getting over that hoodie. Should we head down to that food truck? Is it in the same spot as always?”

A little white lie. No one would have to know.

Peter nodded, opening the front door, his neck craned to stare up at Wade as he did so. “I think it is. But, why don’t you do me a favour of telling me why you’ve asked me out to lunch on a Saturday out of nowhere? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Wade exhaled through his nose, stepping through the open door first. “I’ll tell you when we get there.” 

“How mysterious of you. But it’s not charming.” Peter giggled, locking the door behind the pair of them as they stepped out.

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls feel free to tell me what you think? im still pretty shy about posting this stuff for people to see, but im superhappy with how many people have viewed it already and its only been a day!!! 75 people, wowza!!! thanks so much to those 75!!!!!


	3. playful banter

The two boys walked side by side down the cracked, worn sidewalk toward a little closed-off area in a side street. It had some food trucks and tents selling hot food set up in a semicircle, where tourists and parents with children and teenagers on dates were ordering. Laughing and grinning, absolutely carefree.

The chatter in the air floated around Wade, but he still could hardly focus on anything other than Peter. 

He had both hands in his hoodie’s centre pocket, head bowed slightly to watch his feet shuffle as they walked. He hadn’t said too much, and neither had Wade. It was kind of weird for both of them, because Peter was usually cheery and Wade usually never shut his mouth.

“Well, snufkin, I’m buying.” Wade said, ushering the pair of them in line. This particular truck sold an array of very American, particularly New York style foods. 

“Why do you call me that? ‘Snufkin’? What does it mean?” Peter asked, his voice raised slightly to be heard over the conversations wafting around them, but still soft-spoken.

Wade snickered, shaking his head slightly and settling his hands in his pockets. “You must be too young. It’s from some… Swedish TV show thing. It’s a name of a character. I don’t know why, just… reminds me of you?”   
Peter smiled with the corner of his mouth, a lopsided smirk that made his eyes glitter with amusement. “All right, then.” 

The duo stepped up when it was their turn to order; both guiltily engaging in massive dirty hot dogs with fries stuffed in the bun and a spare order in a box to share. They thanked the teller and carried their armfuls of food to a set of table and chairs tucked away in a makeshift gazebo beside the array of tents and trucks. 

Wade sat opposite of Peter, setting the fries down between this. “After this, I’ll take you down to that corner store and buy you a cola in the old bottle, huh?” He offered, shifting closer to his food.

Peter barely heard him, his stomach singing for the food that he eyed like a wild creature that hadn’t seen such a supple, weak lamb in weeks. 

“Yeah, okay.” He murmured, leaning down to take a bite of his hot dog. A big, wet bite that made his mouth water. A small moan of delight slipped past him, that he exhaled without shame, eyes fluttering closed.

Wade snickered at him, smiling stupidly at how happy that boy was to eat. “Who starved you, boy?” He teased, nipping at his fries a little before digging into his own food.

Peter rolled his eyes, a wet pink tongue flicking past his lips to lick his jaws like a hungry wolf. “I’m young and growing and don’t make much money, what do you expect? Anyway, aside from my eating habits, why don’t you tell me why you’ve showed up at my doorstep all of the sudden?” 

Peter licked his fingers, before reaching for a napkin. Nothing to waste.

Wade sighed through his nose, holding his hot dog in his left hand and reaching for a napkin in tow of Peter with his right. Once he wiped his mouth, he started in.

“Well, kid, I really wanted to catch up with you. I was on this side of town, and you were in plain sight, so why not pay you a visit?”

“Liar.” Peter laughed. A full on laugh, head tipping back an inch or two, grinning with teeth, eyes slitted from his dumb smile. 

Wade appreciated this, and couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay, okay, fine. Really, I just wanted to seduce you.”

Peter giggled, settling slightly, but he still knew his friend too well to believe that. “I’m not surprised, but I know you have a reason for staying in one area for too long. Come on, Wade. I won’t tease you or anything.” He tried to persuade Wade with two doughy puppy eyes, fluttering and batting his eyelashes while sliding a fry past his thick lips.

Wade tripped, stumbled, fell face first, and tumbled down the side of a mountain. He was weak to that look. 

“Fine, fine. I… heard of this guy who’s trying real hard to get his ass out of prison, the big penitentiary north of here? I don’t wanna stop him ‘cause those guys won’t take too kind to me, but, I wanna bust his ass once he starts running.”

Peter cocked his head to the left, raising an eyebrow in confusion and curiosity. “That’s not really common for you. You always want to do the risky thing.”

Wade didn’t want to admit that he was only going to do it because he was concerned for Peter’s safety if the runaway got into this city and on Peter’s turf. He knew Peter would try to safely handle it, but that bastard deserved a bullet between the eyes.  
“Yeah, but logically, this is--” Wade started, setting his food down and raising his gaze to meet Peter’s.

He laughed again, grinning and staring at Wade with big eyes. Sheer disbelief written all over his face. “Since when are you logical?” He cried out.

Wade huffed, crossly, folding his arms and puffing his bottom lip out in a fake pout. “You’re dumb. Big dummy. Fat, big dummy.” He mocked, since he had no other defense for himself.

Peter giggled, smiling wearily at his friend. “Okay, say you aren’t going crazy, and you’re telling the truth when you say you wanna be logical. What does it have to do with me?”

Wade blinked, slowly. “I mean… do you wanna be my partner in crime?” He was rather serious for a moment. “You give me a place to crash, I’ll give you cuts of the money and save your life a couple times.”

Peter’s mouth opened to reply, but nothing came out. He must’ve been dumbfounded by what Wade said. Wade just steadily stared at him, waiting for a reply.

“Okay.” Peter whispered, carefully, side-eyeing Wade with suspicion. He brushed silky hair behind his ear, and Wade just about turned to mush. 

“Okay. Good. So, Peter, that aside; why don’t you tell me what exactly has been going on since I last saw you.”

“Oh, boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahh!! two chapters in one day because it was like 3 am when i posted the other!


	4. depressive episodes and excessive shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fucking hate this chapter, but i'm too lazy to go back and edit it. its mainly just a bit of exposition as to what will happen w/ peter later on, i needed some kind of explanation for it. so dont worry it wont be a composition of sad nigga hours for 4 chapters or so, just a bit of reasoning why he'll be a certain way later on!!!!

Peter seemed to shy away when Wade asked that question. This piqued Wade’s interest greatly, and also worried him simultaneously. He frowned slightly at Peter, who was fidgeting in his seat. 

“Hey, relax. What happened, kid?” He muttered, eyebrows pinching together in a concerned expression.

Peter sighed. He seemed conflicted, rubbing forearms and playing with his fingers. He wouldn’t remove his hazel eyes from staring at his lap, whether it was shamefully or sheepishly.

Wade lowered his voice a little, eyes narrowing slightly. “Hey. Talk to me. You’re worrying me now, and I don’t worry about shit.”

The boy’s gaze nervously averted to staring at the table instead of his lap. He was weighing his options, mentally, and Wade was impatiently thinking over what might’ve happened. 

“Peter, look at me.” He muttered, lowly. Peter’s gaze sharply lifted to his face. He’d never heard his friend use that tone with him before, and it both terrified and worried him. 

“Just, talk to me, kid. You know you can trust me. I don’t have anyone to tell it to, anyway. Come on, tell me while we go buy you that cola.” He promptly stood up, starting to gather their trash and half-eaten food. 

Peter nervously stood up, glued to Wade’s side as he threw their trash in the bin and started to lead him down the sidewalk once more. After a few paces, he heavily exhaled, and gripped Wade’s forearm, stopping him dead in his tracks.

Peter stared up at his concerned face, finally letting it spill past his lips like something he’d guarded for ages.

“Okay, look, I think I’ve got something wrong with me. I just, recently I feel like, really sorry for myself. More than usual. It’s hard to get out of bed and I just… I want to sleep, like all day. I missed school a lot and I’m… it’s hard to even be, you know, my night life.” He exhaled heavily, gripping Wade’s arm with his other hand, clinging to him like his life depended on it. “Please, don’t tell anyone. Please. I have to go to the doctor and then I think they’ll fix it. That’s what doctors do, right? They just give you medication and its easy again.”

“Oh, kid.” Wade sighed, staring down at him. He set his other hand on his shoulder, staring down with blue eyes that were swarming with emotion. Sympathy, sadness, anger for whatever had caused it. He wished he could strangle the emotions out of Peter, so that happy boy could go back to normal.

“Look, Peter, the doctor’s can’t just make it go away. It’s a dumb process. You gotta go, you talk, you take medications. Some of them do nothing, some made it worse, and some of them help so little that you don’t even want to take them anymore.” Wade muttered, gripping the boy’s shoulder tightly. 

“I’m… I’m just sorry it even happened. Do you know what happened? What even caused it? Because if it was a person, I swear to god I’ll fucking…” Wade growled, low and wolfish. His gaze averted and he grit his teeth to stop himself from getting too riled up in front of Peter.

He stiffened when the boy suddenly wrapped his arms around his chest and gripped him tight. A hug. His cheek pressed on Wade’s chest, eyes squeezing closed. Their bodies were warm and flush together. 

Surprised, Wade set his arms around the kid’s back. “It’s all right.” He muttered, glancing away.

“Let’s go buy the cola. You can stay the night at my place. Work out the details of that… guy, or something.” Peter whispered, hoarsely. He sharply twitched away from Wade, turning away and seemingly trying to hide his face. 

Wade frowned. He trailed after the kid, arms falling to his sides limply. He’d never seen the kid like this, and it made him so deeply distraught he didn’t know what to do with himself except comply like a little lapdog. 

It was a whole lot for both of them to think about on the silent, side-by-side walk to the corner store.


	5. upside down kisses are only for movie stars

Wade successfully cheered up his partner in crime by purchasing him an entire bag full of little bits and bobs that the kid had laid his eyes on. A traditional cola bottle like he promised, but also a small keychain that had his name, two Mars bars, and a bag of chips. 

Peter was once again sunshine in a bottle, chattering away about some of his friends and what stupid things they’d done while he was at school last Wednesday. Wade was oddly intrigued, but mostly just mocked his friends with sarcasm and a sharp tongue.

Unlocking the apartment door, Peter led Wade inside. The sun was dipping toward the west, a late afternoon sun warming the yard and west wing apartments. 

Peter giggled as he stumbled into the apartment, shutting the door behind Wade, who was close in tow. “So, why don’t you tell me about this guy we’re gonna go bust? You didn’t say much, for all I know he’s like, a three year old with brass knuckles, or something.” Peter proceeded to laugh at himself, just a little too hard.

Wade smiled with the corner of his mouth, looking away to hide it a little. He took Peter’s bag from his hand and set it down on the small dining room table, pawing through for one of the Mars bars to split. 

“Well, he’s real big. A mean-looking fucker, and the bastard’s rumoured to have some kind of mutant powers, too, but I don’t know that much for sure. I think they said he went in for murder, and a couple other felonies.”

Wade ripped open the packaging, meandering to the sofa and sitting down. It was deep and plush, making him sink down so deep his knees were about eye level with his face, his arse dug deep into the cushions.

Neither of them seemed to care, because Peter sat beside him as Wade took a massive bite out of the Mars bar.

“Give me that.” Peter huffed, yanking it out of his hands. “Swiper, no swiping.” 

“Go home, Dora.” Wade teased back, around his mouthful, reaching over to swat at Peter’s hand for the chocolate. “It’s rightfully mine, anyhow, I paid for it.”

He licked his lips and swallowed his mouthful, fighting the vice of a grip the sofa had on his hips, play-fighting Peter slightly for the chocolate until he ripped it from his small hand. 

Peter wailed a little in response, lunging after Wade who darted sideways and curled his body possessively around his prize chocolate. He munched down another big bite.

“Hey! You said it was mine, though!” Peter’s dainty hands weaseled their way into Wade’s, gripping the last bite away from his thicker, larger fingers, snatching it back. “Swiper, no, swiping!” He huffed, crossly, repeating himself from before, but with a bit more force and seriousness.

Wade shot him a fierce side eye, although he didn’t mean it truly. “You’ve a whole other bar to eat, you rat. Give me that last bite or I’ll take it.”

Peter stared at Wade, shifting toward the corner of the sofa, both hands cupped around the last chunk of Mars chocolate. He seemed to be considering whether or not to start this war. Wade would probably lie down his life and get run over by two semi trucks for a Mars bar. 

After a thirty second staredown, Peter raised one of his hands. Pale skin clung to fragile bones, long fingers stretched out to puffy fingertips that held the last, precious piece of the chocolate.

“Come and get it, then.” He whispered, quietly, and slid the piece of chocolate into his mouth. He giggled a little as he started to chew, eyes glittering with triumph and amusement. He’d won, or so he thought.

Wade took this very seriously, and plus, between him and you, it was an excuse to get closer to that tantalizing slab of meat named Peter.

He turned toward Peter, blue eyes slowly narrowing into slits that made Peter stiffen. “Oh, yeah?” He scoffed, nose wrinkling slightly. It was like the lip curl of a canine. Wade stalked toward Peter, who was licking his lips to gather the last bits of chocolate on his mouth. That pink tongue, slowly dragging across the curves of his upper lip, across his cupid’s bow. 

Wade was towering over him by now, one hand on the arm of the sofa and the other on the cushion by Peter’s hip, diagonally cornering him there. They stared at each other, both equally as thoughtful. Wade’s hard stare was one of consideration, but Peter’s was uncertainty and confusion. Perhaps and a salt-shake of surprise. 

Peter’s breath quickened slightly, eyes snapping up to meet his friend’s. “H-Hey, I didn’t mean it, please don’t hurt me.” He whispered, doughy eyes big and watery with shot nerves. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Came the shockingly quiet response. Just above a murmur, hoarse and low. Peter opened his mouth to reply, but was abruptly stopped.

Wade had leaned down, and closed the distance between their bodies. Lips met, noses brushed clumsily on both of their parts, hands met warm skin.

Peter let out a heavy exhale of surprise, melting down into the sofa and letting his eyes flutter closed. He didn’t really understand why he allowed it to happen, because he was never this weak to his friend’s attempts. His slender fingers had slid over his shoulders, curling into Wade’s shirt and gripping nervous handfuls.

Peter had no idea what he was doing, and both of them knew it.

Their bodies slotted together like jigsaw pieces. Bones and flesh pressed flush together, clicking gently into place, as if they belonged there for years till death. Their hips pressed together, stomachs grazing, by fault of Peter dragging Wade closer by the grip he had on his shirt.

Wade snickered a little against Peter’s mouth, breaking away a little abruptly. Neither of them knew what was so funny for him to stop, out of nowhere. His eyes were lazily slitted, half-open, staring down at the boy with amusement. Peter had leaned up after him, whining like a puppy, under his breath, at the loss.

“What the fuck.” He breathed out, pressing his forehead against Peter’s.

Their warm breath mingled together. Peter licked his lips, nails scraping at Wade’s skin through the fabric of his shirt. 

“I don’t know.” Peter mumbled back, his mouth a little puffy from the attention he wasn’t used to. He fidgeted below Wade.

“What the actual fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first kiss. please kill me now. it's 1:41 in the hecking morning as i post this, but i had to shove it out before school. 🤤


	6. sike

“You know, Wade, you might look like a raisin, but…” Peter made an ‘I don’t know’ sound in the back of his throat. He was standing in the sitting room, following Wade around, who kept pacing the perimeter of the apartment.

Wade rolled his eyes, dramatically. He stopped in the kitchen, shooting a glare at Peter. “Doesn’t make it okay, kid. It was out of nowhere and totally just… out of line. I’m--” 

Peter cut him off with a scoff. “You’re being weird again. Since when do you care if you’re out of line? You’re never this serious. And you never apologize.” Peter’s endless stream of words worked against Wade, since he gave no time for the bastard to respond.

“I told you, I kind of liked it. We don’t have to do it again, we don’t have to not do it again, but it’s fine. Just, stop freaking out.” Peter folded his arms across his chest, jutting out a hip.

Wade exhaled, groaning slightly, bowing his head in defeat. “Fine, mom.”

Peter shuffled up to him, setting his hands on his shoulders. He just kind of stared up at Wade, eyebrows slowly drawing together in a concerned expression. 

“What, kid?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Stop making that face. You look like a Labrador that fucked a Cocker Spaniel and their puppies are you, but perpetually upset because they have different breeds for parents.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“No, I said you look like a puppy, with a black dad and white mom.”

“Jesus Christ,” Peter laughed. He couldn’t help it. 

Wade shifted on his feet, smiling a little with the corner of his mouth. He stared down at Peter, relaxing only slightly. He still had a few things on his mind, but he had something in particular first in line.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, right?” He murmured, barely above a whisper. It was evening time now, with purple-gray light filtering through the curtains. It cast the apartment into a dim, sickly scene. The two could hardly see each other, despite being nose to nose. 

“Yes, why?” Peter blinked slowly, staring up at Wade with curiosity.

“Well, you know what that means, especially if you liked that kiss.” Wade winked at Peter, gripping his wrist. He dragged the boy down the hallway to his bedroom.

Peter stammered a little, “Wait, what?” He stumbled after his partner, clinging to Wade’s arm in slight fear and wonder.

The two of them stayed up until early morning playing video games, and proceeded to sleep in until seven at night the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY SUPER SHORT short short short chapter! yes im mocking all of you, and im keeled over laughing at your suffering. ill post another later today to make up for this short one.  
> also, we broke 200 reads and 10 kudos! holy motherfucking shit!!!!   
> thank you SO so so so much!!


	7. gamecubes and sleepyheads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i lied i was actually really busy after i posted the previous chapter, but here's this one!! the next should have a bit more action, because you know, crime fighting boys!

These were the two men that should be protecting the townsfolk of the crime-filled city. The same men who had passed out on the carpet floor with Playstation controllers tethered to the console itself, like an astronaut to a satellite. The same two men who had piles of snacks and pop and music lowly, idly humming from one of their phones that was most likely dying.

It was evening when one of them finally roused. The first to wake was Wade. His eyes cracked open from where he was lying on the floor, groaning low and hoarse in his chest when he tried to move. He was surprisingly sore from sleeping on the floor.

Slowly, but surely, he forced himself to sit up. He scrubbed the sleep from his face and blearily glanced around, eyes struggling to focus in the dim, evening light, still hazy with sleep. 

His gaze settled on Peter, frowning faintly with the corner of his mouth. The boy was curled up into half his size, knees drawn to his chest and his face buried in his legs. He kept twitching and exhaling loudly in his sleep, squirming faintly on the floor.

Wade growled a breath, pushing himself to his feet and arching over the kid, gripping him by his hoodie and sliding his arms underneath him, scooping him up unceremoniously. Carefully, he transported the writhing boy to his comfortable bed, lying him down and draping the duvet over him.

He stared down at Peter, eyebrows drawing together. He wanted him to feel better. That conversation they had in the street the previous day, it lingered in his mind and wouldn’t leave him alone. Wade gave it two giant middle fingers and padded down the hall, to the kitchen.

Nosing through the fridge for something to snack on, the same thought clouded his mind again. Not only did Wade want Peter to be cured of it, he wanted to know why it even happened. Was it that arse Stark? Was he putting dumb ideas in Peter’s head? 

Probably not, that man loved Peter like a son, but Wade despised him anyway.

Was it a girl? Hopefully not. A relative? Most likely. Wait, did the kid even have any relatives alive any more?

Wade had no idea, he didn’t keep up with Peter that often.

He pulled out a little tin of yoghurt, shutting the refrigerator door with his hip and meandering through the kitchen to find silverware. He was startled when he heard a voice behind him, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. 

“Hi,” muttered Peter, standing by the fridge, rubbing his right eye pitifully.

Wade blinked, offering a ghost of a smile. “Morning, sunshine. We slept all day.” He set the yoghurt down on the counter, starting to walk over to Peter to look him over like a mum.

Peter smiled back, just faintly. “I know. Last night was super fun, though. I can’t believe you kicked my ass and you’re old,” he emphasized ‘old’ as heavily as he could, but his voice was heavy with remaining sleep. He smirked a little, wearily staring up at Wade.

He still had on his clothes from the previous day, his hoodie now wrinkled and covering most of his hands, draping his hips in a lopsided fashion.

Wade snorted, dismissing the ease of how Peter teased him. “Well, sleepy, I figure you gotta go out tonight as you-know-who, and I could join you, or I could nap here for another twelve hours. Either way, I really gotta tell you about that bastard we’re gonna go catch,” he paused when Peter shuffled past him, arms brushing. The kid picked up the yoghurt Wade had stolen a few minutes prior, instead opening it himself.

With a heavy, dramatic sigh, Wade leaned back on the countertop, staring down at Peter as he continued. The boy’s brunette hair was a terrible mess, draping forward into his eyes and across his temples. His long eyelashes grazed his cheeks when he blinked, rosy face shadowed by the dim light filtering through the curtains.

“Anyway, he’s supposed to get transported to a smaller wing of the penitentiary in a few days, if I believe the person who gave me the information. I think that might be when he decides to go running, because fewer guards and going outside instead of through the inside, you know, like, typical superhero movie sort of breakouts.”

Peter just nodded, smiling a little around his mouthful of food at the latter half of the sentence. He lifted his puppy dog gaze to Wade’s face, his pink tongue slowly tracing the outline of his upper lip. “Makes sense,” was all he had to add.

Wade stammered for a moment, staring intensely at his tongue until it vanished back inside his mouth. “Well, uh, I think, you know… that’s when we should, uh, go see, I think,”

Peter smiled a little bigger, flashing his white teeth in amusement. “I get it, I think that’s a good idea. A few days, huh?”

Wade gulped, nodding slowly. He jerked his eyes away from Peter, folding his arms uncomfortably. 

Peter snickered under his breath, going back to eating his yoghurt, silently making fun of Wade.

“Anyway, you’re probably right. We should go out tonight and see if there’s anything going on. I took a hiatus all day yesterday, so it’s the least I can do.” Peter cast a glance at Wade, starting to walk back down the hall to his bedroom.

“I’m gonna get dressed and ready. I guess I’ll meet up with you when you’re ready, too.”

“All right, snufkin.” Wade still avoided looking at Peter, just giving him a curt nod. Peter vanished behind his bedroom door.

Back to the grind.


	8. queens? brooklyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so maybe i deleted the buck/steve thing i was working on b/c i absolutely hated it. i might do something else w/ them in a post-civil war time area??? im not really sure yet. anyway, its sad bitch hours for peter and wade. 
> 
> we also broke like, 300 reads! holy shit! i am so happy to see so many people visiting this work of mine! it means so much to me to see that number, even if some people disliked it, or immediately clicked away. to catch your attention, even, means the world to me. thank you so much for those who've stuck around through the chapters.

“Jesus, kid, you move way too fast for me,” Wade panted heavily, running after Peter on noticeably longer legs. Despite this, he was much more out of breath and lagging behind several paces.

Peter snorted amusement, in a decent mood that evening. He opened his mouth to speak, glancing over at Wade, and was cut off by a shrill scream. 

“That’s my cue!” Peter turned and broke into a jog toward it, glancing around a corner and darting into the main streets. 

Wade groaned, turning after him and trotting after, his array of weaponry jingling on his person. “Does that kid have a goddamn off switch?” He muttered to himself, skidding to a stop when he reached the sidewalk of the main street.

He turned his head to the right, to see Peter bracing his weight on his toes, chest and upper arms braced on the side of a silver car. The front bumper had been absolutely smashed, running directly into a black truck that was banged up about half as badly as the silver car.

Peter was trying to untangle them, so Wade made his way over and peered around a little. “Just a crash?” He braced his weight onto the side of the car, giving a hefty shove and nudging it sideways, away from the black truck. The two of them managed to push it far enough away for Peter to get the passengers out.

“I think so,” He said, distracted, as he looked over the woman in the silver car. She thanked him profusely.

“Oh, thank you, both of you. Spiderman and, uh…” She glanced over at Wade, making a disgusted face. “Whoever you are.” 

Wade set his hand on his hip, glaring down at her. “That’s quite the tone to use with someone who just made it possible for you to be standing right there.”

She drew her eyebrows together, opening her mouth in dismay. “Well, I don’t think--” 

Peter cut her off, standing between them. “Uh, oh, sorry ma’am, do you think you could call the paramedics for me? Just in case anyone in the other car got hurt. Thanks.” He skittered off to the truck, trying to wrench the undamaged driver’s side door open. The passenger was smashed to bits.

Wade made a mean face behind his mask, glaring at the woman a little, as he walked over to Peter. The man in the driver’s side of the truck had a busted lip, bloody temple and a large cut across his forehead. He was middle-aged, with a head full of black hair that was now graying, with brown eyes and a pair of glasses that were now cracked and broken.

Wade reached in after Peter, gripping his arms and helping Peter heave him out of the truck, onto the ground. “You know, kid, this is pretty tame compared to the stuff you did with Stark,” He muttered, letting the passenger of the car lean up on his front tire. He seemed to be holding his lower abdomen, sorely. His left leg was busted up pretty badly, smashed and bloody.

“Don’t call me kid.” Peter muttered, lifting his head to glance over his shoulder, staring directly at the ambulance that pulled up. “Well, time to go.”

His arm slung around Wade’s waist. He grunted with the effort of scooping the heavy bastard up with one arm, his other extended to shoot a web near the higher floor of a building. And up they went.

~

The rest of the night was quiet. Wade and Peter sat side-by-side, cross-legged, at the edge of a building. Wade had lifted the bottom of his mask up over his nose, and was munching on a bag of chips that he procured from absolutely nowhere. Peter still had no idea where it came from.

The cool night air breezed across them, chilling their skin. The moon was a crescent, just a thin sliver that barely illuminated them. It didn’t matter, the city’s light pollution was enough to supply a small country for a decade.

Peter had been quiet for the hour and a half they’d been sitting there. Wade had tried conversation at first, and then settled into silence for a while, and then eating to pass the time. How boring, he kept thinking.

“Hey, um…” Peter’s voice finally came, cracking a little, hoarsely. Wade looked over, hesitating mid-chew.

“Do you think you could… Come to the doctor with me?” He muttered, lowering his head slightly, starting to play with his gloved fingers.

Wade was both touched, and bewildered by this. “You mean like, the head doctor, or the body doctor? You hurt, kid? Or just…?”

“The head doctor. I’m scared, Wade. I don’t wanna go alone.” He murmured, low and cracking. His voice was trying to stay steady, but it terribly faltered. A heavy sob left him, and he gripped his face with both hands, trying to silence himself. “Please just come with me,” Peter begged, with a shaking tone of voice. 

His body rippled with quivers, quiet sniffles leaving the boy. He’d looked daunting and confident not long ago, and now was a ghost of what he tried to live up to.

“Yeah, kid. I’ll go.” Wade murmured, glancing over at Peter. “I’ll go.” He repeated it, for his own sanity. To convince himself.

Peter exhaled heavily, gripping his mask and ripping it off. He set it down beside him, and shifted closer to Wade. He made sure to keep his head ducked, hiding the redness in his eyes and the tears streaming down his rosy, dewey cheeks. 

Their hips and legs pressed together, sides slotting like jigsaw pieces. It was a familiarity that made Wade weak to his core. He faltered, leaning down and burying his face in Peter’s thick, wispy hair, his right arm wrapping around his side and drawing him close to his chest. 

It was a protective gesture, wrapping around the boy and gripping him tightly, like he might lose him. 

Peter’s sadness seemed to come out of nowhere, every time. It came in ups and downs, waves of good and bad. Wade had been sad, sure, he’d been severely depressed, but he’d always been a constant self-deprecating state. This was foreign to him, the struggle of loving and hating yourself. He didn’t really know what to do, because all he knew was to kill the source of the problem.

Surely, he couldn’t kill Peter. Unless someone did it to him, then he could kill them. Strangle them and pop their eyeballs out with soup spoons.

Anyway, Wade didn’t know the source of the problem, and in that somber moment, he didn’t dare ask. He just pressed his forehead on Peter’s head, face hidden in his thick hair. He breathed that boy in, held him tight to his chest for what seemed like ages.

It was only fifteen minutes they settled there. Long enough for Peter to calm himself, stop crying and pull away from Wade.

“Thanks.” He muttered, slowly picking up his mask again. The faint wails of a police car sounded in the distance.


	9. sex in the city sounds really really nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2-part chapter!! wooh! mainly because the second part of the chapter will have some nsfw in it, and those of you that don't want to read it can just skip over it. although i bet most of you won't.   
> either way, enjoy! part 2 will be posted later today for those of you who want to see it.

Peter stayed in bed for the next three days. Every day went something like the following; Peter slept until noon, Wade tried to wake him and feed him, Peter declined. He slept until evening, Wade tried to wake him and feed him, Peter declined. He slept until night, Wade tried to wake him, feed him, and encourage him to go out as Spiderman, Peter declined. He proceeded to rinse and repeat this process for two more days.

On the third day of school Peter had missed, Wednesday, Wade had enough. That night, he whipped Peter’s door open and glared down at the pitiful creature curled up in his bed. He groaned, hiding his face more from the racket and the attempt to rouse him.

“All right, Peter, you’re gonna wake up and you’re gonna tell me what the actual fuck is going on.” Wade rumbled, low and irritated. He couldn’t stand to sleep another night in this house, knowing Peter was drowning in self-pity in his bedroom. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” Peter mumbled, drawing his knees to his chest and melting into his bed more. He hid his face underneath the duvet, so Wade couldn’t see him in a hungry, unbathed, miserable state.

“You never miss school. You always want to go out with me at night, you’re always hungry. Why don’t you want to, now?” Wade sat down at the edge of the bed, peering down at the lump of sheets that Peter’s hair poked out of.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I can’t do it. I just feel like I can’t. I cannot get out of bed. I don’t know why.” He mumbled, words slurring together in a long stream of an almost unintelligible sentence. 

Wade sighed, rubbing his face with both marred hands. He set one of them on Peter’s shoulder, giving it a shake. “Come on. Get up. We’re taking you to the doctor tomorrow, all right? It’s too late now. I’ll make an appointment for you. Don’t worry about school, either, one more day won’t kill them.”

“Why do I have to get up now, if I’m not going till tomorrow?” Peter whined a little, slowly pushing himself to sit up. He was slick with sweat from hiding under his blankets that were too-warm, hair damp and messy and wild with bed head. He wore an old school logo shirt and a pair of gray joggers to bed.

“Oh, see, you really do want to wallow in your self-pity for a while, huh?” Wade snorted, glancing over at the kid. Peter smiled just faintly with the right side of his mouth.

“Kind of. It just feels like the thing to do.” He was trying to help Wade lighten the mood, but the look of genuine sadness wouldn’t leave either of their faces for a long time yet.

Wade shook his head a little, glancing away. “Why don’t we get you something to eat? I guess that prisoner-bust thing is going to have to wait a while. A plan foiled by the infield,” he laughed, under his breath, visibly and audibly weary. Wade looked a lot older and sounded a lot worse than usual. 

Peter frowned. He felt like shit for making Wade so worried.

Acting on impulse, not knowing any other solution, he figured he’d do something stupid and on a whim to cheer up his friend. It was stupid, and Peter never should have, but he did.

He leaned forward, and slid his hand over the side of Wade’s jaw. He guided his head to turn, so they were nose to nose with one another.

Wade blinked, big blue eyes, rather surprised. “Whoa, I--” He was cut off by their lips meeting again. Wow, that was a lot of emotions, Wade felt like he was going to do a kickflip off a building and turn his brain to mush when he landed. Well, he actually felt like he was in a free fall and would never land.

In a way, it worked. It took both of their minds off of what was happening. But, what person going through heavy depression would want to kiss someone? No one sane, that was for sure. Peter wasn’t really sane. And this is fictional. Wait a second.

The two just melted into each other, hands placed on faces and bodies pressing closer, swaying toward each other like magnets. Drawn together, slotting perfectly like a coin in a gumball machine. 

Wade was the first to pull away, prematurely. He cracked open his eyes, and licked his lips rather slowly, to make it last but only a few moments more. “What the fuck is wrong with you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Peter’s.

The kid shrugged a shoulder, eyes still closed and puffy, red lips still parted. “I don’t know,” he breathed back, his hands set up on his partner’s shoulders. “I really don’t know.”


	10. smitten with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY VERY MILD NSFW  
> VERY MILD I EMPHASIZE  
> if you arent interested, dont read this chapter.  
> if you ARE interested, there will be more in later chapters.  
> enjoy

Peter gripped Wade’s shoulder, a little tighter. “Why don’t you come with me while I go take a shower, huh?” His voice was low and thick with a foreign, unknown emotion. Wade cared, only mildly, in the back of his mind.

He nodded, too breathless to reply. He arched over Peter, pressing a meaner, embarrassingly desperate kiss to his mouth that was open and just begging for it.

Peter laughed a little against his mouth, leaning back and arching his spine. His fingers curled into the chest of his partner’s shirt, backing up several clumsy, unsteady paces, trying to brace the weight of the man on top of him. He was pretty much smothering Peter with hot, open-mouthed kisses across his part lips and cheeks and jaw, trailing down the curve of his throat.

Peter’s eyes fell closed, head back. He wasn’t really sure what to do with himself or the information he was receiving. He just blindly stumbled backward until he bumped into the door of the washroom, jolting a little with a sharp inhale through his nose. 

One of Wade’s hands had slid down to the knob, turning it and letting Peter’s weight fall onto the door to open it. His opposite arm was wrapped around his waist, gripping their torsos flush together. 

“Oh-kay, wait, wait,” Peter managed to gasp out, his neck dripping with saliva, and dappled with blooming scarlet bruises across his fair, pale skin. His small form kept rippling with vicious shudders. 

Wade rumbled a little, complaining without words; his lips plastered across Peter’s collarbone. He lazily lifted his gaze, like a big old puppy. 

“I thought it was an invitation,” he murmured, lips brushing sensitive skin as he spoke. His hot breath puffed over the boy’s collarbones, making him shiver again.

“It, it is, but, let me at least get in the shower first. It’s kind of embarrassing just, out in the open, don’t you think…” He mumbled, squirming out of his partner’s grip, stumbling on unsteady feet. His eyes were unfocused, but he shook it off long enough to shuffle over to the small, compact shower.

“You have no idea,” Wade snorted amusement, eyes narrowed to slits. He stalked after Peter, a big cat ready to pounce. He froze when the water started running. 

Peter glanced over his shoulder, suddenly rather shy. He smiled a little, ducking his head. “You’re getting in with me, aren’t you?” He whispered, hiding his face.

“Bet your ass, I am.” Wade rumbled, stepping closer to him and setting his hands on his waist. “You can’t be that cruel to tease a poor bastard like me, like that.” 

“I guess not.” Peter murmured, lifting his hazel eyes. They were still heavy and weary with his undecipherable sadness, but sparked with his curiosity and unbridled enthusiasm.

Wade prodded his ribs with his fingertips. “Well, I guess I finally get to see if your suit is padded or if you really are that fucking big, hmm?”

Peter giggled, ducking his head down to press his forehead on Wade’s chest. “First of all, I’m all real. Secondly, stop making me doubt this decision.

Steam started to rise from the hot water in the shower. The mirror began to fog. Peter broke away from his partner to grip his shirt, arms crossed, and guide it over his head.

Well, he wasn’t lying.

The boy was fair-skinned, pale, and unblemished. He had a few freckles scattered across his body at random, but not many clusters. He had few lasting scars, most from childhood anyway. He was slender, and lithe, but not lacking power.

Wade just stared like an idiot, with two eyes as big as moons. He couldn’t look away.

“Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” Peter giggled, but it sounded forced. Wade glanced up at him. 

“Maybe, but you are quite, uh…” His voice trailed off at the end of his sentence. He was speechless at Peter’s joggers sliding off his hips.

Okay.

Peter turned away too quick for Wade to catch sight of much, apart from his bare arse. He stepped into the shower with light, quick feet, like a deer, almost hurrying away from Wade’s penetrating gaze.

Wade unceremoniously undressed and followed suit, ducking his head around the shower curtain and glancing up at Peter, who had hidden his face under the shower of water. His hair was slicked back and clinging to his skin on his temples, heavy with water.

He jumped a little, glancing over at Wade. “Wow, okay, I--”

The boy couldn’t even get his thoughts into a sentence before they were kissing, again. A messy, water-enveloped kiss, that left both ends breathless from the hot, humid air. 

Peter broke away first, hands on Wade’s chest. His eyes were still closed, as he gasped a breath to speak. “Wade, I don’t know if-- oh, jesus, okay,” his voice turned into more of a high-pitched squeal with the way Wade’s hands were moving.

They’d started at his ribs, and trailed south, dangerously south, to his unclothed hips. How freeing it was to have no fabric between his palms and Peter’s porcelain skin. 

Breathless and barely conscious of where he was on this earth, Peter let himself lean back and brace on the shower wall for balance. His head tipped back against the tile wall, his voice melting into a low, begging whimper.

How euphoric that sound was, for Wade to hear. But, the asshole he was, he leaned nose to nose with Peter, his hand hovering across his naval. His fingers dripped water, his voice thick and laden with amusement.

“That’ll be an extra fifty bucks, pop.”


End file.
